The Road Where It Happened
by Divachick86
Summary: "You ever look where you are and ask yourself: How in the name of Zero did I get here? That's me right about now." Times have grown dark for the Operatives of the KND and it has left everyone in paralyzed shock and fear. But it wouldn't seem so shocking to anyone if they happened to look back down the road where it happened.
1. What You Have To Do

**Hey!**

 **So most reader will probably have no idea who I am, which is good because I'm trying for as clean a slate as possible here, but if you do happen to be someone who read my work before my very long hiatus followed by the writing purge: Sorry! I know there were at least a few people upset about the purge. I've been confronted about why I removed my stories and even had at least one request for putting them back up somewhere. I am so appreciative of that support, so thank you! However, I'm afraid I didn't have any of those stories backed up, so their last to the ether, and quite frankly, there's a reason I deleted them. I didn't like them. I felt the characters were kind of flat and all over the place, I didn't like the style, and I felt the plot lines were unfocused and messy. However, since I can't(And wouldn't if I could) give you back those stories, instead I give you this plotline I've been working on.**

 **For any miracle reader that happens to be familiar with my old work, you may see some familiar faces. I've kept some of my, as well as reader, favorites as far as OCs go, they're just revamped and in some cases(Or maybe most is a better word) very different from their originals. If there are any OC's yoou particularly liked and would like to see again, please tell me and I'll see if I can fit them in.**

 **As for this, it is actually kind of a side series of scenes to explain circumstances we will see in my actual full story(Which I do hope I will get to put up). There will be at least a few of these chapters before I start the other story because they actually lead up to the start of the story and then sort of parallel what's going on elsewhere. Sounds complicated I know, but trust me it's not really'^.^**

 **Okay, I'm done babbling because most of you guys probably didn't even read all of this anyways^.^**

 **I don't own KND. Just in case anyone had their doubts. .**

 _~What You Have to Do~_

"Did you hear about Numbuh 11?"

Rachel McKenzie looked up from her sandwich. Patton-no he was Numbuh 60 now. It was funny how little time it took to develop a habits that would be nearly impossible to kick later. She had known the dark-haired boy as Patton for only two months before he took his codename, but that was plenty of time for him to permanently become Patton in her head. Even now, more than six months after their cadet graduations, she still couldn't make herself remember Numbuh 60. Regardless, he was approaching them with a box in his hands, grinning that crooked, ever-amused grin. Fanny-Numbuh 86- looked up from her work wrapping an operative's arm. Rachel was sitting cross-legged on the bed right next to where she was working and that's where Patton set down his box and hopped up to sit. "Abigail Lincoln's older sister?"

Rachel smiled a little around her food, glad to see that she wasn't the only one struggling to remember to call their classmates by codenames and also wondering why the other girl even needed to ask. Numbuh 11 was a legend. Abigail was even more so. Not every cadet could say they'd already been on KND missions before the first day of training. Numbuh 60 nodded in answer to Numbuh 86's question opening his box and pulling out his lunch. He wore the KND guard uniform, green shirt and cargo pants with black pads on his shins, elbows, and chest. He'd removed his strainer helmet, emblazoned with his codename, and his gun, the best model 2x4 technicians could muster because Moon Base gaurds deserved nothing less. He'd placed both behind him. "She went rogue."

"What?" Rachel asked, swallowing. "Why?"

"She turns thirteen tomorrow. Guess she decided she couldn't keep her oaths after all," Patton replied with a shrug. He bit into his sandwich. Rachel hated how non-chalant he made it. Defecting was the worst crime Rachel could imagine. On the day you graduated you swore to stay loyal to the KND and then a person could turn around and throw all of that away over something they knew was coming all along? And here was Patton, acting like it wasn't anything, it was even a little funny too him. She dropped her sandwich, her appetite gone. "It's a real shame. She was such a good operative, now her reputations going to be completely ruined all because she couldn't give up a few memories."

Fanny shook her head and muttered about teenagers, accidentally pulling too hard on the bandages she was working on and making the boy yelp. "Anyways," Patton went on, "you can guess what kind of trouble she's causing. I mean, there's a reason basically every operative knows her name, wants to be her. The entire decommissioning team went after her and she still got away. They say she beat them up so bad doing it that they had to send the team to an adult hospital because the damage was too extensive for KND medics."

"That's a loud of crap," Numbuh 86 informed him. "I would have known long before you if the entire decommisssioning team had been brought in as injured as you say, and anyway, nothing's too extensive for me."

"You're barely an operative," the patient informed her grumpily, "and you're wrapping that too tight!"

Numbuh 86 snapped, "It's supposed to be tight, stupid."

"Regardless of what you're ego tells you can and can't be true," Numbuh 60 pressed on, ignoring Numbuh 86 when she stuck her tongue out at him. "Something pretty bad had to have happened because the Supreme Leader's going after her himself." At that bit of news even the injured operative took a break from glaring at Numbuh 86 to stare at Patton in awe. "It's true. I was standing guard ouside his office. Saw him leave myself. He took quite a few combat-specializing officers with him as well."

"But he didn't take you," Fanny observed, seeming to find this short-coming highly amusing. Numbuh 60 only shrugged and asserted that he wasn't experienced enough to take on Numbuh 11 anyways.

"He's right about that. Numbuh 11 would eat any one of you babies for breakfast," Number 86's patient observed as the fiery-haired girl pinned the bandage and let him up. "Numbuh 274 is the best, though. If anyone's going to take her out it's him."

As though on cue, the door burst open then and a small flood of officers entered, some limping or supporting teammates. One carried a smaller operative in his arms. Rachel leapt off of the bed at the sight of the tall, blond operative, her heart racing. There was no operative active that didn't know the supreme leader on sight, even without the catcher's chest protecor that displayed 274 across it. He looked around frantically as he laid the unconscious girl on the closest bed. "Where's Numbuh 911?" He demanded. His hair was plastered back from his face by thick, red gunk. Rachel had never seen his eyes before, she didn't think anyone had, they were usually covered by the blond locks. Today, however, they were visible and concerned.

"He went to lunch," Numbuh 86 replied, staring around at the wave of injured, seeming at a lose. Rachel wanted to laugh at the irony. It seemed despite all her talk before even Numbuh 86 could be overwhelmed. "What happened?"

"Cree," one of the operatives said simply.

The blond boy pointed to Numbuh 86's patient and told him, "Go get Numbuh 911! Now!" The boy gaped like a fish, eyes wide and focused on the red gunk making tracks down Numbuh 274's face and staining the collar of his pale blue t-shirt. "Now!" Numbuh 274 repeated, louder this time and the harshness of the word seemed to rouse the patient who stood shakily and left the room at a run. Fanny ran to the back and returned with a kit of bandages and needles and thread.

"Supreme Leader, sir," she started as she hurried to the blond boy. "You're bleeding. You should let me look."

Numbuh 274 waved her off. "My head's fine. Cree just nicked me with a knife."

"She had a knife!" Patton gasped, mouth falling open. No one had trained them against knives, their enemies didn't normally use them.

Numbuh 274 went on as though he hadn't heard the interruption. "It's Numbuh 12 that needs help. Stupid kid tried to track down Cree and bring her back. They were teammates, so she thought she could get through to her." He shook his head. "She was unconscious when we found her. I don't know what Cree did."

Fanny hesitated. "Sir," she started slowly. "You're the Supreme Leader-"

"And I'm ordering you to take care of Numbuh 12!" Numbuh 274 told her shortly. She jumped at the edge to his voice, then nodded. She turned and threw the kit to Rachel.

"Here, Numbuh 362 will fix your head!"

"What?" Rachel gawked, fumbling with the kit. "But I have no medic training!" But Numbuh 86 wasn't listening. She was busy following Numbuh 274's orders. Numbuh 274 lingered near the bed as she started her work, but at a sharp word from the young medic, he started edging toward Rachel. Her heart skipped several beats as she saw him coming towards her. She tried to pass the kit to Numbuh 60 who stumbled away quickly, objecting:

"Oh no! I'm not a medic!"

"Well I'm not either!" She hissed, trying again, but he turned on his heel and ran out, leaving behind his half finished lunch and his helmet and gun. Rachel groaned and turned back around to face Numbuh 274 who was suddenly right beside her, towering over her with one hand outstretched. He smiled reassuringly at her.

"It's okay," he said in a kind voice, very different from the loud bark he had been using not moments before. "I was a medic when I first got out of Cadets Next Door. I'll walk you through it."

Rachel gulped, nodding and handed over the kit. Numbuh 274 took a seat on the bed on which her lunch and Numbuh 60's belongings still sat. He pulled open the top and removed what looked like a giant version of the q-tip her mom used to clean out her ears- and sometimes her nose-, a bottle of orange-looking stuff, a needle and thread, and a syringe. Rachel gulped. He held the syringe out to her and she cringed. "What's wrong?" He asked, frowning. His eyes flickered between her and the needle in his hand. They were a really bright blue- his eyes- pretty, but also thoughtful, intelligent. Since the day she had first seen him, she'd always wondered how he could even see with his hair in his face all the time. Now that seemed like a trivial thing to wonder about. She'd always wonder now why he would ever want to cover them up. If she had eyes that incredible, she'd show them off all the time.

She'd gotten so caught up in her own thoughts she hadn't even noticed the spark in those very eyes when he realized what was wrong without her answer. But when he spoke she realized they were now sparkling with the same boyish amusement she had always associated with Numbuh 60. "Are you afraid of needles?"

"Not afraid," she defended, crossing her arms and sticking her nose up. Somehow he seemed far less intimidating when he was sitting there thinking she was funny. It seemed to remind her that he was just another boy to tease her about stupid things. "I just don't like them."

"Well it's not like it's for you," he told her with a laugh. Now he definitely wasn't scary. She snatched the needle away and he pointed out a spot near the place where his scalp had been sliced open. "Just stick it in and push the top part all the way down."

She did as instructed and when she was done he took the syringe and tossed it in a red box that read, "Medical waste". Then he picked up the bottle of gross-looking orange stuff and dipped the big Q-tip inside. When he handed the Q-tip to her he explained, "Now you use this to clean the cut and the skin around it."

So that's what Rachel did. While she was at work with that Numbuh 274 tried to strick up a conversation. "So what's you're name, kid?"

"Numbuh 362."

He laughed. She had to put in a lot of effort not to scowl. She didn't think there was anything funny abut the codename she'd chosen. "You're real name." Oh. She felt her cheeks go hot. Of course he wasn't actually laughing at her codename. She was just to wound up from the situation, she told herself, she wasn't actually that crazy. When she hesitated trying to convince herself of that he seemed to take that as uncertainty about revealing her actual name because he added, "Aww come on. I'm about to let you sew my head closed. The least you can do is tell me your name."

Right. "Rachel."

"Rachel," he repeated, sounding pleased, as though the name fit just right on his tongue. "That's a good name; not too boyish but not obnoxiously cute. I'm Chad." Rachel didn't respond, afraid she might say something stupid. She just focused on cleaning instead. Her silence didn't deter Chad. He just kept talking. "Talk about an obnoxious name, huh? Sounds like I'm already a stupid teenager."

 _If you don't say something he'd going to think you're stuck up. Then he'll hate you and that's the last thing you need; the supreme leader hating you,_ Her brain hissed at her. "Maybe someone should check on that. Make sure you didn't change your age in the system or something," she managed.

The idea seemed to amuse Chad. He chuckled and asked, "Is that possible?"

Rachel shrugged. "If a cadet can hack into the computer and change their test scores I don't know why the Supreme Leader can't hack in and change his age."

"A cadet did what?"

Rachel nearly dropped the big q-tip, now a gross looking rusty brown between the stuff from the bottle and Chad's blood. "What?" She asked in a panic, trying and failing to sound innocent. _Way to go, genius. Maybe next you should tell him Numbuh 86's dad makes plots to get rid of his employees children or that you secretly love brussel sprouts._ Chad looked up at her and opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment Numbuh 86 grabbed her by the arm and pulled her aside.

"We have a problem," the medic whispered, glancing around as though worried someone may here. Rachel's relief at being saved from explaining her stupid slip up faded almost instantly. She glanced at Chad, who was staring intently at them and moved Fanny a little further away, turning their backs in his direction, but keeping her head turned so she could watch him from the corner of her eye.

"What is it?"

"I don't know what's wrong with that girl...Numbuh 12." Judging from the scowl she wore it was a painful thing to admit. "There's no sign of injury at all. It's like Cree just gave her some sort of sleeping draught."

Rachel considered. "Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't want to hurt her own teammate."

Numbuh 86 shook her head. "I don't think so. Her breathing is weird and her heart. I don't know how to explain it, it was just...off."

"Is everything okay?" Chad called and when Rachel glanced back at him he was getting to his feet. She held a hand out to stop him.

"It's okay," she assured. "She's just saying we need some more hands, but that guy should be back with Numbuh 911 soon, right?" She looked at Fanny, trying to reassure her and warn her to stay calm and not cause alarm all at the same time. The medic seemed to get the message because she nodded and went calmly over to look at a boy whose leg was turned at an unnatural angle.

Rachel went back to Chad, who was glaring suspiciously at her. "What is really going on?"

Rachel ignored him and finished cleaning the cut, but Chad was determined and tricky. He kept slipping in little comments as she worked trying to throw her off. He demanded to know why Numbuh 86 wasn't working on Numbuh 12 mostly and didn't take, "Numbuh 12 is fine." for an answer. Every time he insisted she wasn't fine and he knew it. Not even walking her through how to use the needle and thread to sew his scalp closed deterred his insistent questions. He just fitted them between instructions. Finally, just as Rachel thought she might crack and tell him the truths, she was saved when the doors burst open and Patton rushed in, closely followed by an older operative with a shock of dark hair, wearing a white lab coat with 911 drawn crudely in marker across its front. Rachel wondered briefly what had happened to the injured kid that had been sent to look for the head medic.

"What happened?" Numbuh 911 demanded, looking around. Fanny flushed with relief at the sight of him.

"The patient in Bed 2 needs immediate help, sir," She started instantly, rushing across the room. "I'm not sure what's wrong with her…" and she preceded to talk with him in a hushed voice. Numbuh 274 looked at Rachel, his eyes suddenly devoid of that boyish amusement.

"Numbuh 12 is fine, huh?" She blushed fiercely, but didn't justify his comment with an answer. She only moved to start fixing his head, but he brushed her off, standing and heading towards the bed where the medics were crouching over the injured operative. She grabbed his arm and said in a quiet voice, "You'd only be in their way. Trust the medics to do their jobs."

He stood perfectly still for a long time, just staring at her, but she didn't back down. This was important, she knew it in her gut. It was important that Numbuh 274 stayed right where he was instead of going across the room to breath down Numbuh 911's neck and she couldn't let the fact that he was older and the supreme leader and very intimidating when he wanted to be get in the way of that. Not when it was this important. He seemed to get the message, because he sat slowly, glaring resentfully at her the entire time.

But despite his choosing to stay there, Rachel couldn't get the supreme leader to stay still. He kept shifting to watch as Numbuh 911 examined the young operative, frowning. There was a long few moments when the head medic stopped his examination all-together. He just stepped away from the bed and stared at nothing, mouth moving silently. Numbuh 86 searched his face, horrified and kept demanding he stop standing around and _do_ something.

Then Rachel saw it. A moment of horrible light in the medic's eyes and he reapproached the patient and began searching over her body with his fingertips. Numbuh 86 looked scandalized. "What are you doing?"

"Here!" The medic cried as though he hadn't heard Numbuh 86. Rachel couldn't see what he had found, something just under the hem of the girl's tee shirt, "She must have raised her arm to protect her face and revealed the skin here." He then raised the arm on the same side and pointed out something on the underside, "see it caught her here too."

Numbuh 86's mouth hung askew, brow furrowed. "What is it?"

"Marks from a T.A.Z.E.R," He replied, bustling around now to lay the operative on her back and strap her down to the bed. Rachel frowned and looked to see if the supreme leader understood what he was talking about. Numbuh 274 seemed as confused as her and called for further explanation, which made the medical officer jump. He looked around and seemed to realize everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to watch and listen to him. His face turned very red and only more so when he realized who had spoken to him. "Supreme Leader, sir! I didn't know you were here! You're head's injured." Numbuh 274 dismissed his concerns and repeated his original question so the medical officer explained, "It's new technology being developed by the weapons specialists. It shoots electrical conductors from the end that hold heat seeking devices so it is more likely to find exposed skin and stick. The scientists designed them only to conduct enough electricity to stun an enemy. The one used on this operative was much more powerful and I'm guessing has caused severe internal damage."

The operative hesitated in his work on the patient, contemplating, then took a deep breath and crossed the room to Numbuh 274, bending low to speak quietly enough that most of the room's curious occupants wouldn't hear. He couldn't speak quiet enough to stop Rachel hearing however. "I fear the internal damage is too severe, sir. We do not have the resources to help her."

Rachel thought of what Patton had said before about the decommissioning team. He had said they had been forced to send some of the operatives to adult hospitals and she remembered how Fanny had scoffed and insisted she could fix anything. She didn't seem so sure now, staring down at the patient with wide eyes and looking as though the ground had disappeared beneath her feet. Like everything she knew was suddenly gone from her. Faintly, Rachel heard Numbuh 274 say, "Do what you have to do."

The operative nodded and made his way back to Numbuh 86, speaking quietly to her across the table. Without flinching, Numbuh 86 helped him wheel the girl calmly from the room, but Rachel could still see that vacant terror in those usually so fierce eyes.

She was so caught up watching them leave that she had forgotten about Numbuh 274, until he cleared his throat. She jumped and stared at him blankly. He pointed to his half closed wound and asked, "You gonna finish?"

"Right," she muttered, feeling her face grow hot. She picked the needle back up and returned to sewing his scalp closed. As she worked the questions whirled in her mind, too many in number for her to just pick one to ask, so she settled with considering them silently and pulling together her supreme leader's skin.

After a long silence, Numbuh 274 spoke, "That little red-head's pretty good under pressure. Did you two come from the same cadet class?"

"Yes sir."

"She trained in anything other than medicine?"

Rachel paused and frowned at him. "Why?"

"Because I'm the supreme leader and it's my business what kind of training my operatives have," he offered, as though it were only a suggestion despite the fact that Rachel understood it to be a scolding for her questioning his motives.

"Combat: hand-to-hand and weapons."

He made a thoughtful sound. Rachel wanted to ask him why he wanted to know again, but thought better of it. Instead she covered his wound with gauze and a bandage and said, "There all done...I think."

He stood and said, "Come with me." Rachel blinked, surprised and tried to object, first with the excuse that she had to clean up the kit, then, when that didn't work, by insisting she had to get back to duty, which was true, she had well exceeded her lunch break. He was insistent though and you couldn't exactly argue with the supreme leader, so she followed. He took her through the many halls of the moon base, over the deck of the ship that looked out into space through the giant, glass wall, and past the decommissioning chambers and science labs. It seemed he took her all the way around the base, until they came to a big set of double doors at the end of the hall. "Know what this is?" He asked her. She shook her head, she had never been down this hall before. "It's my office."

He removed something from his pocket, a small remote and pressed a button at the top. The doors hissed and slide apart of their own accord. Inside the room was big, but simple. A desk behind which stood a high-backed, leather chair and in front of which set two more smaller chairs. Filing cabinets, topped with many trophies acting as racks for medals and ribbons, stood on the walls to each side, and across from her, behind the desk, the wall was made completely of glass in much the same manner as the deck. Rachel was so caught up marveling at the room that Numbuh 274 had to nudge her before she realized he wanted her to go inside.

The doors slid closed behind them and Rachel felt suddenly very nervous. Numbuh 274 took a seat behind his desk. It was messier that she would have imagined. Paper lay strewn across it half-burying a little bobble head in a football helmet. Rachel took a seat uncertainly, eyeing that bobble head, which had begun to nod when Numbuh 274 had opened a drawer on his side of the desk. He dug around in that drawer, making the head bob more, without saying a word. Finally, Numbuh 274 muttered something, it seemed he had found what he was looking for, and sat up. In his hand he held...a mirror?

Rachel frowned as the supreme leader examined his face, peeling back the bandage to see the wound. "You didn't do half bad," he observed.

"Sir," she started slowly, "Is that all? Because I really do need to get back to duty."

He put the mirror away and sat back in his chair, staring at her. "What department are you in?"

"Spies, sir."

"I'll call Numbuh 007 and tell him what's going on." Rachel thanked him uncertainly, still wondering why he would be so interested in her. "That medic, Numbuh 86, how long have you known her?"

"We were cadets together, sir. We were in the same squad," she replied. She didn't add the part about them living next door for as long as she could remember. How Fanny's mother always invited Rachel and Harvey over for snacks or meals or any excuse really. Rachel suspected she was trying to parent them as well, which she didn't mind since her own parents didn't do it... That probably would have been a far more heavy response than the supreme leader had bargained for.

"Oh? Did she act as leader? She seems like the take charge kind of personality."

"We worked as a unit. We were all inclined to take charge so we just l kind of put all that energy together." It had been a nightmare at first. They butted heads so often they had gained the attention of the Head Drill Sergent. Nothing was scarier than that boy screaming in your face and telling you if you didn't learn to work together your would be kicked out of the program all together.

Her answer seemed to amuse the supreme leader. "Do you think she would do well if I put her in charge of a team?"

Rachel wasn't sure how to answer that so instead she just stammered uselessly, hating herself the entire time for how useless she was being. "Sir...I'm not sure...really I don't think I'm qualified-"

"The question wasn't 'Do you think you're qualified to tell me if she could run a team?' it was 'do you think she could?'"

Rachel hesitated for a long moment, staring with her mouth agape at Numbuh 274. Finally she decided it wasn't some sort of test or joke. She answered very slowly, "She is very good at taking charge. I think...with the right team...yes she would do well. What did you have in mind?...If it's not overstepping for me to ask, of course.." She thought back to his first question about Numbuh 86's other specialties, "...field medicine?"

Numbuh 274 nodded. "Yes in the beginning. I would assign her to the decommissioning squad as a field medic and Numbuh 968 would groom her to be the next Head of Decommissioning."

"Head of Decommissioning," Rachel repeated, surprised. "That would be a great honor."

"She's impressed me," he explained. "I reward those who impress me…" He stared at her with a little half smile that made her weary.

"Why are you looking at me like that, sir?"

"You've impressed me as well, Numbuh 362," he explained. "It was a serious situation, but you kept your head, helped out where you were needed. You did this," he pointed to his head, "With no training other than what I gave you in the moment, so I know you're flexible and quick to pick things up. And most importantly, you stood up to me. I was letting my emotions get in the way. you saw that I could cause more damage than good and stopped me. You know when to lead and when to follow. That's the most important thing a leader can know. So, starting today, you will act as Numbuh 007's apprentice. You'll help him with paperwork and other administrative things. You'll sit in on briefings to see how they work from the the other side, and when you do take missions they will be much more serious and complicated ones to prove you have the skill to handle them. Then, a little more than a year from now when Numbuh 007 reaches his thirteenth birthday, you will take his place as head of the spy unit."

Rachel blinked in surprise. "Sir.." she started uncertainly. "That's...that's a great honor." Somehow, "Are you sure" seemed a little ungrateful even though that was exactly what she was itching to ask. He smiled at her as though he could see right into her head and read her thoughts.

"You think I'm making a mistake?"

Numbuh 362 shook her head vigorously. "No sir. Of course not, sir. It's just...I'm a little overwhelmed," she admitted. "I'm not even a year out of cadet training."

"But by the time Numbuh 007 is gone you'll be close to two years out and that's nearly half your time with the organization." That fact made Rachel's heart drop. Was there really that little time? "And you're talented, kid. I think you could really make a mark here, but that won't happen if you're too scared to take a chance, or at least believe in the people who want to give them to you."

Rachel stared at her black combat boots. Head of her own whole unit. It would be amazing, and she could do it. It would be like taking care of her little brother, but just with more than one little brother. Right? How would she know if she didn't take the chance? She looked up and met his eye. His hair was still pulled back out of it, this time by the medical gunk she had used too clean his wound and the bandage. Part of her wished he'd leave it that way.

Again he seemed to take her temporary distraction as hesitation. He said, "What do you say, kid?"

And for some reason his words to Numbuh 911 popped into her head then. _Do what you have to do._

"I would be honored to accept your proposal, sir."

 **Okay, last PS before I go. This is an alternate universe that is a little more sinister than the show. Because the circumstances are a little different, some characters may mature in a different way than in the show. So in Layman's terms: Some characters may develop to be a little(or a lot) out of character. I will try to make sure there is a good and explained reason for any OOC-ness.**

 **Okay, I'm done. Thanks for making it this far!**

 **3Divachick3**


	2. Sunglasses

**Hi again!  
**

 **Thank you to everyone who took the time to read the first chapter and come back here a second time! And two those that faved, followed, and reviewed: You are awesome, I appreciate your support so much and your kind words mean so much, so seriously can't thank you enough!**

 **I know its been a few weeks between updates. I've always been like this and I always say, "I'm going to do better." But the fact is that for me this is a long process because I want it to be the best that I can make it and that requires lots of writing and rewriting and editing and things too that nature and also I have a lot of other things in my life that extend that process even more. On that subject if anyone happens to find anything sketchy please let me know. PM or a review will work, I'm not going too be mad if you correct me in front f everyone, it's totally cool^.^. But honestly I want this to be the best experience for everyone and no matter how many times I edit I always miss something. (On that note I wouldn't mind a beta if anyone's interested in THAT!)**

 **So this chapter is not as action-y as the first one. It's mostly setting up for things that will occur in later chapters as well as offering a little backstory for a major character/relationship in this story AND answering a question I've always had about the particular character involved in my own creative way that I feel fleshes him out as a human.**

 **Okay, I'm done boring you with my talking.**

 **I don't own KND or any of its concepts.**

Sunglasses

Numbuh 274 was in his office, skimming through the paperwork piled on his desk to separate out the things he should pay close attention to from the things he could just give to Numbuh 559, his assistant/best signature forger the KND had. He believed it helped as a leader to understand when to delegate...mostly he just didn't want to spend of all of his time signing paperwork. It was boring and Numbuh 274 was more of a take action sort of leader.

There came a knock at his door. Speaking of tack action, he thought and called for the visitor to enter. As he had suspected, the operative that poked his head in was small, with a mop of brown hair and wide-brimmed glasses that made his eyes grow several sizes. Numbuh 0101 graduated in the same class as Numbuh 274 and the supreme leader had never seen a better hacker come through the KND. He motioned for the operative to come in and take a seat. The boys slinked in, clutching a folder to his chest.

"Are those the records I asked for?" Numbuh 274 asked, motioning to the folder as the boy took a seat across from him.

"This is it sir," Numbuh 0101 confirmed, handing it over. "If it's not to forward of me to ask, sir: what could you want with old cadet test scores?" The question he wanted to ask was why was the supreme leader stepping on the head drill sergeant's toes. Numbuh 274 knew what rumors would travel when word got out that he had obtained Cadet files without even talking to the Head Drill Sergeant, but Numbuh 888 was prickly about his job and it would be much easier to come to him with actual prof of a problem instead of suspicion of a problem.

He didn't scold Numbuh 0101 for asking. He had asked the hacker to do something very unethical thing and for that the boy deserved at least a little bit of a reason. "I heard a thing," he answered simply, flipping through the pages, eyes skimming for anything… "There," he said aloud and grabbed the nearest pen, circling the line. Then when he took a look at the name at the end of that line, he frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make any sense, sir?" Numbuh 0101 asked, trying to peek at what he had marked.

Numbuh 274 shut the folder. "Thank you for your help, but I can take it from here. Go back to work." Numbuh 0101 looked for a moment as though he may object, but in the end stood, nodded respectfully to the supreme leader and took his leave. As he went out, someone shoved him out of the way and both haker and door went flying back, crashing into the wall. "Hey!" Numbuh 274 called sharply to the boy who entered in their wake. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a permanent scowl on his face, which at this particular time had a very long gash reaching from his left ear to his chin. The work of Cree Lincohn. Atop the thick brown curls he wore a strainer helmet with a little plate in the front reading his codename: 968.

The Head of Decommissioning.

Numbuh 274 got to his feet, the folder forgotten on his desk. He had been expecting this visit since the moment he had made Numbuh 86's transfer with the added note that she was to be trained as his successor. Numbuh 968, use like Numbuh 888, was a proud operative and didn't like to be reminded that his last day in the KND was creeping ever nearer.

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Numbuh 968 demanded loudly. Numbuh 0101's mouth was hanging open. Most operatives would never dare speak to the supreme leader in such a way. But Numbuh 968 wasn't most operatives.

"It is wise to train an operative before giving them such a notable position, you of all people know this. You were trained as well and you started much sooner than Numbuh 86."

"She's a medic!" The older boy roared. His face was very red, which concerned Numbuh 274 slightly. He considered suggesting the Head of Decommissining try actually breathing so that maybe he wouldn't pass out...or at least so his head didn't explode all over the office.

"She's trained in more than just medicine. It just happened that a medic was what was needed," Numbuh 274 tried to explain calmly. Unfortunately, Numbuh 968 wasn't going for that.

"I don't care what she's trained in. I am not passing my legacy to a weepy, over-emotional, rainbow and unicorn loving-"

"Have you actually met Numbuh 86?" Numbuh 0101 put in, wincing as he got to his feet. "She's really tough. I don't ever think I've seen her cry...or fawn over rainbows and unicorns…" he said that last part as though the idea were quite an exceedingly absurd description of any girl.

It made Numbuh 274 smile and helped his own argument, which was, "Numbuh 0101's right and the only person being over emotional here is you-"

"I'm being overemotional-"

"So!" Numbuh 274 continued over the Head of Decommissioning's objection. "I suggest you go home. Take the night to reconsider your position on my decision and consider just doing as you're told."

"You haven't heard the last of this," Numbuh 968 warned, then turned on his heel and stormed out, making Numbuh 0101 flinch as he went by. Numbuh 274 thanked the hacker for his support and bid him a good day. When the door was safely closed behind him, Numbuh 274 slumped back into his chair and sighed. It had been a long week. Such a long week.

He couldn't have said how long he sat like that. It was a little more difficult to tell time when the sky outside had really only one setting: dark canvas painted with stars and the big blue and green blob that was Earth or the giant yellow blob that was the sun… or sometimes both at the same time or neither at all. When he did finally stand, stretching and determined to head home and take the weekend off, his eye caught sight of something that reminded him he still had work to do. The folder sat amongst the papers looking completely innocent unless you knew what was inside. Confirmation of his suspicions, of that little spy's off-handed comment, the incrimination of an operative whom, as it had turned out, he was very fond of.

Then again, perhaps it was nothing. Maybe Numbuh 362's comment had been only a joke or just some tall-tale that her cadet class liked to tell. Every cadet class had at least one tall-tale. Maybe it was as innocent as he would have taken it if he had seen it without any other context.

There was only one way to find out. He shuffled the mess around his desk until he found his communicator. The boy that answered was so layered in coats and hats that it was hard to tell where he ended and the fabric began. You couldn't see his hair under the beanie and eskimo cap. He was pale and his nose was always red anytime Numbuh 274 saw him, even when he wasn't in the middle of the arctic. It was like spending so long in the cold had permanently changed his nose's color. It amused Numbuh 274 to think that that must of been what happened to Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer.

"Numbuh 888," the supreme leader greeted genially. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I know you're probably busy getting ready for the new class of cadets coming to you in a few weeks."

"It's nothing my drill captains can't handle on their own," he assured. Numbuh 888 was a good liar, but they booth knew that the drill captains had absolutely nothing to do with planning for the new cadets. They knew nothing until the breifing right before the arrivals. Numbuh 888 was not a delegator and perhaps that had to do with Numbuh 274's preference. Anyone who had seen, really seen as he had, how much pressure Numbuh 888 was under because of his own tendency to hoard work, would prefer any other method. Numbuh 888 had trained Numbuh 274 more closely than any other student. The supreme leader had been his pet cadet, and Numbuh 274 didn't regret a second of it, despite the teasing he had endured the entirety of training and afterwards. You never forget the person who helps you get to where you are and likewise, the instructors never forget their most promising students. He was banking on that, anyways, considering what he had done, but the thought stirred something else inside him. A little trail of doubt when he thought of the name that waited inside that folder. "Chad?" Numbuh 888 asked at last, breaking his trance. "Was there something you needed?"

Numbuh 274 smiled. Even as supreme leader and the boy's superior, he would always be Chad the Cadet to the led Drill Sergeant. "Yes. I had a question. I heard something interesting the other day that got me thinking, so I pulled the test scores of the last graduating class of cadets," Numbuh 274 explained as he watched Numbuh 888 close a door behind him on the screen and walk around the room, which the supreme leader assumed was his office, to take a seat. He could see a sparkle of the irritation he had expected in the Drill Sergeant's eye, but the boy still remained silent and listened. "And it shows you overrode the computer to enter one of the scores manually-"

"I didn't do that," Numbuh 888 interrupted at last. It seemed that Chad's planned had worked. The irritation had been replaced with an uncertainty and slight alarm. When he was confused and attempted to furrow his brow it looked like ice splitting under too much pressure. The eyebrows jerked into place and the lines in his forehead seemed too deep to be natural. "I didn't even know that was possible. I always just let the system do its work."

"Interesting," Numbuh 274 thought aloud. "Well, someone changed it using your name and override code…" This fact seemed to melt away the confusion and alarm and replace it instead with annoyance. Numbuh 888 flexed his shoulders as though thinking about hitting something.

"Who do you think could manage that? That little freak show Sheldon probably..."

Numbuh 274 laughed. "What reason would Numbuh 0101 have for changing some cadet's test scores." He shook his head. "No, I'm sure it was one of the cadets in the class. Can you think which one may have the skills to do it?" Numbuh 888 shook his head, still brooding. Numbuh 274 nodded. "Well, in that case, do you happen to keep hard copies of the tests?" At that the Head Drill Sergeant nodded proudly. "Excellent. I'd like you to send me one."

* * *

Numbuh 274 was pacing his office when Numbuh 362 entered, poking her head in first, nervously. "Sir?" She called, watching him pace. "You called?"

"Yes, come take a seat, Numbuh 362."

She did as he bid, feeling hot in the face and trying to remember what she had done that might get her in trouble. Numbuh 274 was obviously agitated about something and she hated to think she could be on the receiving end of it. Less because she was afraid of what he would do, although that was a concern, but mostly she hated the idea of disappointing him. She had too much respect for her supreme leader-and owed him too much to boot- to not be concerned about his opinion of her.

He made his way in front of her and leaned back against his desk. Then he removed an open folder from the mess piled atop the desk and handed it over to her. "Do you know what this is?"

Her eyes barely had to skim the paper to figure it out. She forced down any reaction that may give away that she suspected where this was going and blinked up at the supreme leader as innocently as she could manage with the sirens blaring in her head. "It's the final cadet exam we took before graduating sir."

"Indeed," he agreed. "Does that look like a passed test to you?"

Numbuh 362 looked back down at the test, pretending she had to take a second look at the answers too be sure, even though she already knew. How could she not? She had been the one to sneak Abigail into the Head Drill Sergeant's office. She had stood guard as the girl hacked into the system and changed the score with Numbuh 888's security codes. And now she was caught. What kind of punishment awaited her at the end of Numbuh 274's roundabout questioning.

She set the folder down in her lap and looked back up at Numbuh 274. "No sir, it doesn't."

"And yet he graduated," Numbuh 274 observed, pacing back around his desk. "I know he did, because I trained him myself. It was one of the proudest moments of my KND career when he took his codename." He stared at her for a long time and she tried very hard not to betray any of her guilt. "How well do you know him?"

"Sir?" She squeaked, even though she was now certain it was pointless playing dumb. He knew.

"You knew he changed the score," Numbuh 274 accused. "You let it slip last week in the medical wing. Remember? When you stitched this up?" And he gestured to the bandage still wrapped around his head. "So how could you have known, unless you helped him? Which would also imply you knew him well."

Rachel deflated. "I didn't really know him at all, except in passing." It wasn't a lie. He always kept to himself and only really talked to Abigail and the chubby boy that always wore the pilot's hat. But she had known Abigail Lincoln and had a lot of respect for her. So when the girl came to her and asked for help, she hadn't refused. She hadn't even asked questions, like why Abby felt so responsible for the weird bald kid. Now she wished she had. "It was a favor for a mutual friend…"

"That's an awfully big risk for someone you barely know."

"Our friend," Rachel started, uncertain how to explain it. She had felt guilty at first, like she was cheating on the test herself, but Abby had assured her it was the right thing. "She said he struggled with reading, but he was fantastic in the field and it wasn't fair to deny the KND such a promising operative because of some words on a paper." She'd used a specific word, but Rachel couldn't remember what it was. "She said there was some sort of disjunct in his brain. She said he had to see a special teacher at school for it and everything."

Numbuh 274 was silent for a long time, but she could see the agitation slowly slipping away and something else seemed to light his face. Was it hope? Understanding? She couldn't tell, but she thought it was good.

"If your friend was right," he said as though he were thinking aloud. "Then she school will likely have records on it." Rachel felt as though she were intruding now and was about to ask if that was all and make a beeline for the exit, but Numbuh 274 smiled at her then. "I've got a mission for you Little Spy."

* * *

The file was on his desk the next morning. Numbuh 274 blinked up at the little blond girl in surprise. She was dressed all in black, he had never seen her in anything else, with her hair in a high ponytail and her eyes glittering with pride that only grew more apparent when he asked, "You got it already?"

"I happen to be very efficient at my job," she replied smugly. Numbuh 274 grinned. She was getting more and more comfortable with him and the more comfortable she got the more he like her. She was talented and spunky.

"Thank you, Numbuh 362. That will be all." She nodded and headed out without another word. Numbuh 274 opened the folder and read over what he found inside. Sure enough, just as Numbuh 362 had claimed, there was the condition. That word. Numbuh 274 had heard it before somewhere, but he couldn't put his thumb on where-

Then it occurred to him. He folded the record to hide the name, then sent out a mass message to let his heads of departments know he would be out, and headed for the hangar and his personal travel ship.

* * *

The KND museum was tended to by Numbuh 101. He was young, not even two years out of cadet training, but was filled with useless facts and always spent any encounter either rambling or asking for an autograph(which he collected as religiously as his fun facts). Normally he annoyed Numbuh 274, but today the supreme leader was grateful for the boy's insane knowledge.

When he arrived at the museum Numbuh 101 rushed out to greet him. He had a horrible lisp that made Numbuh 274 cringe when the young operative said his codename. "Numbuh 274! What an honor! What brings the Supreme leader all the way down here? Are you here to give me an autograph for my birthday?" He asked, thrusting the notepad and pen he had brought at the supreme leader.

Numbuh 274 waved them away. "I'm here for some information."

Numbuh 101 nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you need to know, I can help you with. Well, anything fact related," he added sheepishly. "I couldn't tell you how to find the square root of pi, although ironically I do know what it is-"

"Numbuh 101," Numbuh 274 interrupted, pulling out the paper. "Focus. I need to know something about Numbuh 0."

"The great Numbuh 0 that founded our branch of branch in the history of the Kids Next Door?" Numbuh 101 elaborated, his lisp getting worse as he got more excited. "Why he's my favorite subject. I did my thesis fr this position on his life! Anything you need to know I got right here." He tapped his head. Numbuh 274 smiled, remembering the very long lecture he had been forced to sit through for that very "Thesis". As much as he had wanted to fall asleep, however, the speech did give him one thing. It gave him this day.

"Good. What about his relation to this…" And he showed Numbuh 101 the folded report, his thumb pointing out the term he needed information on.

Numbuh 101 made a very excited sound and nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. He struggled with that most of his early life."

"What is it?"

"A learning disorder, sir," Numbuh 101 explained. "It makes learning to read difficult because people with it don't process letters the same as others."

"So if he couldn't learn to read, how did he read the KND book. How did he lead the KND if he couldn't read reports or messages or write orders?"

"Well that's possibly the most interesting part of the story." Numbuh 101 assured him. "Why don't you come inside and I'll tell you everything." Numbuh 274 obliged.

* * *

Numbuh 1 had trained with Numbuh 274. They had spent hours sparring, Numbuh 274 teaching him lessons by knocking him on his back or throwing him over his shoulders. When you've spent so much time with another person, you get comfortable with them, so there was no reason for him to be so nervous today. Somehow, though, he was. As he sat across from the supreme leader his hands shook and his face felt hot. Perhaps it was how amused Numbuh 274 seemed. What was he up to?

"Thank you for coming in Numbuh 1."

"Of course, sir," he replied quickly. "Is there a problem."

"You heard, I'm sure, about Numbuh 11's defection," Numbuh 274 began. Numbuh 1's eyes drifted unconsciously to the bandage on the supreme leader's head and he nodded. "Her defection has shaken her sector, for obvious reasons. One member was seriously injured, her sister is devastated and the twins are close enough to their own thirteenth birthdays-and were so close to Cree- that their loyalty to the KND is now under serious question. So, I've decided to form an entirely new Sector V. A new leader and fresh blood, well mostly, Numbuh 5 will remain onboard."

"And…" Numbuh 1 began slowly, "you're putting me on this team?"

"No!" Numbuh 274 laughed as though that were the funniest thing he had heard that day. Numbuh 1's face went hot. He didn't have to be so mean, it was a reasonable assumption considering the current circumstances...or at least Numbuh 1 thought so. He was opening his mouth to say so when the supreme leader went on, "I'm giving you the team."

"S-sorry?" Numbuh 1 stammered, sure he had heard wrong.

"Well I want to," Numbuh 274 elaborated, "I've put together what I believe to be the perfect team. The best 2x4 technologist we have- especially impressive considering he's not even a year out of cadet training-, a very skilled weapons specialist- although he's got a temper so you'll have to watch that-, an excellent medic with knowledge and skill in several other areas making her quite the trick hitter, and Numbuh 5 whom's qualifications you already know."

Nigel still hesitated, part of him wondering if this were some sort of joke, but a bigger part of him knew that the supreme leader would never joke about something this serious. Numbuh 274 liked a good laugh, but he understood when it was and wasn't appropriate. Then something the supreme leader had said flashed in Numbuh 1's mind and he asked, "You want to?"

"I do," Numbuh 274 agreed. "However, first there is something we need to discuss. See, I heard something that got me wondering. So I checked out all the cadet tests from your class and I found something sort of odd. It seemed the head drill sergeant overrode the system and changed a test score manually. This was obviously something to raise eyebrows considering what had sent me looking in the first place. So I gave Numbuh 888 a call to ask…" Numbuh 1 felt he knew where this was going and suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. "And curiously enough he had no memory of changing any grades. So we pulled the paper copy of the test and what should we find? The operative had failed his cadet test, but managed to override the system and change it so he could graduate."

"Sir, I can-" Numbuh 1 started, but numbuh 274 cut him off.

"Hush, I'm speaking." Nigel did as instructed his face hot with shame and fear. Numbuh 274 leveled his gaze on him and continued, "I couldn't figure out how you did so poorly. You were one of the most promising cadets of your class. So I took a look at the questions and answers and found that you had missed questions I knew you knew the answers to. I was very confused as I'm sure you guessed so I looked into your school files and what I found there was that you have been determined at risk for dyslexia." Nigel swallowed hard and nodded. "So you didn't fail that test because you didn't know anything. You failed it because you couldn't read anything."

Numbuh 1 had never been so humiliated. Not even when he had lost all his hair. His face was burning and he wanted to hide under the desk. Or cry. Or both. Instead he took a deep breath and said, "I understand if you don't want to give me the position now. It's important for a leader to be able to read…"

Numbuh 274 didn't respond at first. He riffled through his desk instead, searching. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for and sat up to look at Numbuh 1. "You're not the first KND operative to have dyslexia and you wouldn't be the first great leader either. Would you like to know another operative with the same problem?"

"Who sir?"

"Numbuh Zero." Numbuh 274 smiled at his shock. "That's right. He struggled as well. So some of his best 2x4 officers created a program that connects to the brain, scans letters and helps the brain correct them. Once they had successfully completed the program they enhanced these to use it." And he sat a pair of inconspicuous black sunglasses down on the desk between them. "His infamous sunglasses. They've been preserved in the KND museum for years, but I pulled some strings."

Numbuh 1 could produce no words, only uncertain sounds when he tried. Numbuh 274 smiled at his efforts, but said nothing until Numbuh 1 finally managed to say, "Are you...are you giving them to me?"

"Well," Numbuh 274 began, "With the contingency that they work. Until we know for sure, I'll keep them here. You'll come in once a week for reading lessons, which will hopefully be successful if the glasses do their job. Then, when I'm satisfied you have enough basic reading skills I will transfer all of my chosen operatives to Sector V and you'll take it from there."

Numbuh 1 considered for a long time. "...Why do all of this for me?"

"Because, Numbuh 1, I think you're special. I think you'll be one of the greatest operatives the Kids Next Door has ever seen, and I won't miss the opportunity to see that because of some messed up brain chemistry."

Numbuh 1 smiled despite himself. It was nearly the same thing Numbuh 5 had told him when she had decided to change his grade in the system. He'd never had so many people believe in him, think he was more than that stupid kid that can't even read. He looked up at the supreme leader. "Thank you sir. I won't let you down."

 **Like I said, this one didn't have quite as much action, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways and I promise next chapter I have planned is much more interesting.**

 **So come back! Also, if you have any requests for a little mini background story to be included, please feel free to ask either in a comment or PM me. I love hearing suggestions, sometimes things like that is exactly what I need for a little inspiration to get me out of a slump.**

 **Okay I'm done done talking now. Thanks for reading!**

 ***Divachick***


	3. Defection

**Honestly did not think I was ever gonna finish this chapter. I had some MAJOR writer's block. But here it is. Y'all enjoy!**

 **I own only what was not created by others.**

~Defection~

The hallway of the spy unit was as dull and grey as ever. Located in the dead center of the base, no windows let in any light from the stars or the sun outside in space. There was only the weak glow from the failing lights along the ceiling and the almost spectral shine from the blinking panels beside doors. Even that was faint for this particular wing was old and ill-cared for so many of the lights and panels were dark. Numbuh 86's footsteps echoed as she stomped down the hall, never as light footed as the spies that inhabited this space.

Numbuh 86 glanced up and down the hallway to be sure no one was following, then ducked into one of the doors whose keypad was dark and useless. Rachel had pried the door open with a crowbar from the 2x4 technology department and left a wedge in so the door remained open just enough to slip through into the rom beyond. Inside the room's lights and equiptment were as dead as the keypad so the space was lit by Rachel's flashlight and the light on the end of Numbuh 60's R.A.Z.E.R. There were blank screens along one wall that reflected the light, making the room look even lighter. Numbuh 60 was perched on the control panel beneath the screens and Numbuh 362 was spinning in the chair that usually sat in front of the panel. Otherwise the room was small and cramped and empty.

Numbuh 86's mouth quirked up into a smile at the sight of Numbuh 60. He'd been transferred to Arctic Base as a prison guard months before and didn't often get to join them for lunch anymore. As much as she missed his presence, constantly there to crack a joke at the right time and improve her mood, Fanny thought Arctic Base suited him far better than Moon Base. She remembered how happy he had been during cadet training. How he would take off his coat and run laps around the cafeteria for his early morning workout and his love of making faces in the ice and scooping up handfuls of snow to shove down unsuspecting people's coats. The cold and ice were Patton's element and he had seemed too beam with joy ever since he had been sent back.

"I have an Arctic-Base made slushie, rainbow munchie flavored, that I am willing to trade for those peanut butter cookies I know your mom made last night that you're not going to eat," Numbuh 60 announced, breaking her out of her reverie. She blinked at him and he shook the slushie at her, which was actually just snow that he stuffed into a styrofoam cup and poured milk from his breakfast over, but it tasted amazing anyways.

Fanny made her way over and took a seat beside him on the control panel and dug a little tupperware bowl, in which her mother had packed a few cookies for her lunch, out of her bag. She handed the bowl over and gladly took the slushie in return.

"Why are you all the way up here?" She asked as she dipped a spoonful into her mouth, enjoying the way the snow melted sugary goodness over her tongue.

"High profile prisoner. Numbah 40's processing him now," Patton replied around his mouthful of cookie. "I hear it's a big day for you as well."

Fanny frowned at him. "Why's that?"

Patton looked at her as though gauging whether or not she was being serious. When it seemed she was he said, "Because it's Numbuh 986's birthday and you're supposed to be the new Head of Decommissioning?" He glanced at Rachel as though looking for confirmation. Fanny looked at her too, but Rachel looked as confused as the both of them.

"How did you not know it was his birthday," she demanded of Fanny. "You're on the decommissioning team?"

But something had occurred to Fanny and she dropped her food on the panel and leapt to her feet. "Because the person in charge of the decommissioning team tells us who we're going after," she told them in a low hiss as she raced from the room.

When she made it to the Decommissioning Team's lounge area she found most of the team lying around, eating lunch and playing Yipper in a corner. No one even glanced up when she rushed in, except Numbuh 89 who asked vaguely, "Where's the fire, kid?"

"Get up. We have to go," she demanded, heading straight to the computer and logging in.

One of the other team members laughed aloud and someone declared, "You're not the boss of us yet, Ginger." And she felt the speaker coming up behind her, probably to see what she was in such a rush to find. When what she was looking for pulled up she heard her teammate gasp and looked up to see her face. It was Numbuh 88, pinched faced and snarky, but good at tracking and loyal to whomever she deemed worthy. When she saw the name Numbuh 86 had pulled up her face hardened and she declared, "You heard our little leader. Gear up everyone, we're going hunting."

~Defection~

Many of her teammates had been slow to action, skeptical about her claims despite Numbuh 88's assertion that she saw the file that said his birthday was today. They objected that it must have been a mistake. A glitch in the system or some idiot put the wrong date in. They insisted that if their leader had really turned thirteen he would have gone out peacefully. He wouldn't defect. He had always spoken harshly against defectors.

 _He's a hypocrite_ , Fanny thought bitterly as they raced through the sky towards the home of her traitor leader. They had started by attempting to pull up his tracing tags, but he had been Head of Decommissioning for years. He knew how their tracking worked and the things that could be traced were always going to be the first things he got rid of.

"I still can't believe he would do this," Numbuh 89 asserted for what must have been close to the millionth time. "How could he do anything like that after what we all went through when Cree defected."

"Because he's a stupid teenagers and that's what stupid teenagers do," Numbuh 86 replied from her position slumped in the leader's seat. She didn't feel very leader-y, but Numbuh 88 had gestured her towards the seat and if she was going to play the part she had better do what was expected.

Numbuh 87 gave her a dark look. "You just don't like him. I bet you changed his age in the system just so you could become leader."

Numbuh 86 felt a twang of hurt rush through her chest, which was immediately replaced with a white hot anger. "You don't get to talk to me like that," she told him petulantly. "I'm your leader now."

"You're just a stupid little girl whose friend happens to be in good with the Supreme Leader," Numbuh 87 shot back.

Fanny clenched the arm of her chair hard. There it was again, that ever-lasting self-consciousness. That permanent stain on her life that was Rachel McKenzie, who was too good a friend to drop and to good at everything else to be around without feeling completely inadequate. "I earned what I got."

"You're a medic. No medic has any business leading a field team."

"I'm trained in more than just medicine," Numbuh 86 objected, not for the first time. How many times had Numbuh 896 thrown her medic training in her face? Her teammates now were just spouting back everything he'd been saying for months and she was growing more angry by the second.

"Sure."

And finally Numbuh 86's temper got the better of her. She slammed the palm of her hand on the arm of the chair and said, "Enough, I will not sit here and take-"

"We're here," Numbuh 88 announced.

As they made their landing Fanny got to her feet and glared around at her teammates. "Numbuh 88 will come inside with me. You two will stay here and watch the ship."

"What?" The boys demanded together, angrily. "You can't do that! We're trained sharpshooters! You need us!"

"I'm trained in sharpshooting just as well," Numbuh 86 replied through gritted teeth, "and I don't need operatives that want to argue with me at every turn. Now stay on the ship like I told you!" And with that she and Numbuh 88 exited the ship.

They had landed in an overgrown lawn, piles of scrap metal and lumber and other odd things littering the space. An old shed stood not far off, a giant hole in one door and the roof half collapsed. The paint was so dull it was hard to tell what color it had been at the start. And in front of them was the house: small, discolored, and uneven. One window by the door had been knocked out and replaced with plastic wrap instead of new glass. When they crossed the yard and stepped up on the porch to get to the door, the wood creaked beneath their boots, making Numbuh 86 weary.

"He lives here?" Fanny asked, staring at the ruin with her mouth hanging open.

"Not everyone has a rich daddy to give them everything they want," Numbuh 88 replied, shrugging. From the resentment in her voice, Numbuh 86 guessed their ex-leader wasn't the only one on the team without a "rich daddy". Still, the accusation stung.

"My dad doesn't even know what the KND is. He can't have helped me get this position, even if he was that kind of guy...which he isn't."

"I wasn't saying you didn't earn your position," Numbuh 88 assured her, and when Numbuh 86 gave her a skeptical look she sighed and continued, "I was a guard at Arctic base before I was picked up for the decommissioning team. I saw your cadet class being trained, saw you being trained. Your class could've taken the KND right then and there. I knew it and everyone else knew. You had the talent and not just in one area. It was all spread out. Geniuses in every corner. You were the most impressive cadet class since the one that produced Cree Lincoln and Numbuh 100. So no. I don't doubt that you're the new Head of Decommissioning because you're right for it. I'm just saying, some of us have nothing other than the KND. Our leader is our mom or our dad, our base is our home, our teammates are our family. Without any of that we're just...no one…"

Numbuh 86 scuffed the rotting porch with her toe. What would she be after the Kids Next Door. Exactly what she had been before? Just the girl with the big personality and the even bigger hair whose mother loved the girl next door better? "Having a rich daddy doesn't always equal happiness."

Numbuh 88 looked at her for a long time, saying nothing. Finally she seemed to decide the younger girl wasn't just exaggerating and shrugged. "What's that old saying about the grass being greener on the other side?"

Then she reached out and knocked on the door. Behind the stained white wood a dog howled and there was a cocaphony of scratching and crashing followed by a shout and angry muttering. Then door cracked open. All Fanny could see of the woman on the other side was her eyes, bloodshot and sunken, and some hints of a sallow face and wispy hair and a frail body. She struggled with something on the ther side of the door, which Fanny guessed was the dog. "What?" The woman demanded sharply.

"Hi, Mrs. Blaylock. It's Katie. Is Lucas here?" Numbuh 88 asked very politely.

The door shuttered and the barking started anew at the sound of the new voice. The woman scowled. "Oh, you're one of those friends of his that like to play dress-up aren't you. I was wondering why he was talking all that nonsense this morning. Thought maybe he accidentally found my stash. Well, no he's not here. I think he said he was going to that stupid museum out an Olive St. The one with all those trains...or something. Fuck I don't know, but he's not here."

Fanny flinched at the vulgar word. Her parents would never use language like that in front of a couple of kids. And what did she mean by 'my stash'? Adults baffled her sometimes.

"Well thank you for you're help," Numbuh 88 said. The woman grunted in acknowledgment and slammed the door closed in their faces.

"Okay," Fanny conceded. "Maybe sometimes the grass is a little greener." That made Numbuh 88 laugh.

They began making their way around the piles of junk and back to the ship...wait...hadn't the ship been parked just right there beside that tree with the collapsed tire swing? "Our ship is gone," she announced incredulously, gaping at the tracks in the dirt where it had been.

"I can see that," Numbuh 88 agreed, frowning and looking around as though she may find it lurking behind a tree or a pile of junk.

"Why is our ship gone?" Numbuh 86 demanded more hysterically, looking around as well.

"I have a theory," Numbuh 88, replied darkly, shaking her head. "But that doesn't matter. I think I know where we're going and it's not too far from here. Come on."

~Defection~

As it turned out "museum with a bunch of trains" actually meant train junkyard with a little building out front that had a sign saying "Train Museum" in front of it. The building was tiny and made of dingy white brick. Numbuh 86 poked her head inside, swept the building in less than a minute, then met Numbuh 88 out back. "Nothing in there," she observed.

"I doubted there would be," Numbuh 88 admitted, then said, "Come on. This way." Motioning for the younger operative to follow.

They made their way between the carts, Numbuh 86 staring up in awe as they towered over her. Most were rusted and dented. Some missing wheels and others with broken windows. Few still had doors and none seemed to still be the color they started out as. The yard was quiet as they walked, except the occasional animal that fell from a nest built somewhere in the decomposing trains, or the faint sound of cars on the road.

Finally, the quiet got to her and Fanny cleared her throat uncomfortably and started slowly. "So..it kind of sounded...before I mean, like you may have some experience in the bad parent department?"

"Nope," Numbuh 88 replied simply, head swiveling constantly as they walked. Numbuh 86 blushed and said nothing else for a while before Numbuh 88 finally elaborated. "It's hard to be bad parent when you're not even a parent. My dad ran off before I was born and my mom...well, she's not around anymore either."

"Oh…" Numbuh 86 coughed uncomfortably. How was that possible, for parents to just leave. They have to take care of kids. Take care of them and love them. It was the rule. "So...where do you live, if it's not with your parents?"

"Right now, on Moon Base. Much better than being in the system."

Numbuh 86 was about to ask what "the system" was when Numbuh 88 stopped abruptly. Numbuh 86 nearly ran into the girl and once she had her bearings again peeked around her to see why she had stopped. They were standing in front of...well the best she could think to call it was a fort. Several of the train cars had been moved and arranged to form walls and catwalks that stretched all the way up to the top where tarps had been pulled across to act as a roof. Numbuh 86 gave a low whistle. "What's that?"

"That," Numbuh 88 replied sadly, "Is where we're going."

Numbuh 86 followed as she stepped forward and under a cloth that served as a door. Inside was even more incredible than the outside. Bridges stretched across between more catwalks and boxes had been piled atop each other to form rooms. The spaces were decorated with old furniture and musty blankets served as doors. Everything was lit by lamps that seemed to float in midair, but, upon looking more closely, Numbuh 86 realized were actually held up by thin, clear strings. "We built this together. Lucas wanted a treehouse of his own, just like the field operatives. I wasn't even an operative yet, but I lived next door at the time and I thought it was the most incredible thing. It was our secret place. It was my sanctuary as much as his."

"And now you've taken even that away."

The new voice made them jump and stare around. Numbuh 86 scowled, raising her weapons and demanded, "Come out Numbuh 986 and surrender yourself to be decommissioned!" No matter how she searched she could not find him. He must have been hiding on one of the catwalks where the light was fainter.

"Come down so I can be humiliated the likes of you. I don't think so you self-righteous-"

"Lucas you made promises to protect the KND traditions. If the Head of Decommissioning can't even respect this tradition how can we expect anyone else to?" Numbuh 88 tried to reason. She was staring around too, dark eyes catching the lights of the lamps like a sort of canvas. "You said yourself that defecting is the worst crime an operative can commit."

"You can't understand," the voice replied. It was definitely above them and Fanny was smart enough to know that that meant little chance of sneaking up and taking him by surprise...and all the chance of him doing just that to them. "Who can understand? I wasn't anywhere near my thirteenth birthday and they were already trying to replace me. I was nothing to them, just some doll to be used and thrown away when they were finished."

"Numbuh 274 understands we have to move on, to adapt, in order to survive. You know that too," Numbuh 88 reminded him.

There was a sound then, a choked noise, full of disdain and anger. "I know nothing," their ex-Head of Decommissining replied, and then she saw it. The shifting of shadows, the movement of an outline. She not to look directly at it, moving her hand slowly towards the ranged stun weapon on her back. She just couldn't give away that she knew where he was. If he moved away too fast she wasn't sure she would be able to find him again.

Numbuh 88 was talking again. Sadness filled the space along with her words. "How many times have you said defectors are the worst scum in the KND? How many times have you insisted that we made vows and we have to keep them. It's time to stand behind your own words."

Numbuh 86 was almost to the gun. It would only take one shot so long as she didn't miss… "I'll not stand behind anyone that pretends to care about me and then replaces me as soon as I stop being useful."

Her fingers were wrapped around the gun now. She whipped it free and fired. She was never known in cadet training for missing and today was no change. The silloutette jerked, stiffened like a board and tumbled down off the platform it had been standing on to land a few feet below on a pile of boxes. The boxes collapsed under the weighted and old comics and newspapers and Yipper cards spilled out, tumbling over each other and across the dark floor. Numbuh 86 raced over, smiling proudly.

But it wasn't her ex-leader lying among the boxes. "Numbuh 89?"

Behind her there was a scream, breaking her shock and Numbuh 86 turned to see Numbuh 88 hit the ground hard, her weapon skittering across the floor and another dark shape racing after the dropped weapon. Without much forethought, Fanny raced forward as well and dove for the weapon, latching on just as her opponent was picking it up. They wrestled, the larger person muttering and cursing. The gun went off, lighting their faces for a split second and there he was, scowling and red in the face.

"Let go!" He snarled, and shoved the gun into her chest, knocking the wind out of her. The force made her hands release and she went sprawling across the floor. Then, before she could recover, something hit her hard, like being punched and her whole body shook violently.

Then everything went black.

~Defection~

The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was familiar; sharp and clean. The smells of the medical wing. She lay on something stiff and uncomfortable and could feel thin sheets and blankets draped across her body. Someone was moaning somewhere and she could hear someone else bustling about. Probably Numbuh 911. He could never stay still even when they were slow.

Her eyes slit open and the bright light stung, but she forced them further open anyways and looked around. The privacy curtain was pulled closed around her, confining her vision to just the small square of space. There wasn't much in the space. Just a bedside table with a lamp atop it and a chair that held her comrade, Numbuh 88, who had a bandage on the side of her head but seemed otherwise unharmed. The memory of the train museum came rushing back to her suddenly at the sight of Numbuh 88's injury and she said, "He got away." It wasn't a question. Numbuh 88's solemn face had told her the truth from the moment she saw it.

"He was always better than me, I never had a chance alone," she admitted, staring at her hands. "But we did get Numbuh 89. He's locked up in a cell waiting for your judgement."

"Mine?" Numbuh 86 squeaked, surprised. "Shouldn't it be Numbuh 274's decision?"

"Numbuh 274 says that he was your subordinate and it was your team he actively betrayed, so it's your decision. Actually, they're all your decision. Numbuhs 87 and 90 betrayed you as well. They didn't actively help Num-Lucas...but they did leave us stranded and short on team members which allowed for Lucas to escape."

"And I have to decide what happens to them?" Fanny asked, feeling sick. She knew what she would like to do of course, but it had so much to do with anger and frustration and often these feelings could lead to bad decisions. Rachel had told her that more times than she could count. She had such a temper and she knew it even if she didn't like admitting it. "Can I take some time to make a decision?"

"Of course," Numbuh 88 told her, standing. "I hate to run off as soon as you wake up, but I have to go," she explained. "Since I'm the only member of the decom team not incapacitated or under arrest I've been tasked with running the temporary team that the Supreme Leader scrambled together, and we have an assignment to take care of."

"Of course." Fanny nodded. "Thank you, for being here." And for not betraying me. She didn't say the last part, but she could tell by Numbuh 88's smile that the other girl understood.

~Defection~

Rachel sat on the edge of her bed, mulling over what Fanny had told her. Her face was set in the hard lines it got when she was really considering, weighing the options, looking at the pros and cons. She could do things like that, look at everything from different angles, see all of the things that could happen as a result of an action. It was why she always seemed more level-headed than Numbuh 86.

"Well," the Head of Decommissioning asked, "What do you think?"

"I think," Rachel replied after another beat of silence, "That you're being very merciful. I think that if they had done to me what they did to you they would all be decommissioned and I wouldn't care if the teens used them as a martyr." Fanny started to reply, stopped then tried again, but in the end it was Rachel that broke the silence. "Maybe you're plan is better though. I don't know. There are a lot of possible consequences either way."

Fanny shook her head, sighing. "I don't get it," she muttered angrily, clenching her hands together in her lap to stop from doing what she really wanted to do, which was shout...and maybe throw things. "How could they take his side? They've been rounding up defectors for years. Most of them were on the team when Cree defected. How could they defend someone who would betray us like that?"

"Some people are too loyal," Rachel replied with a shrug, then added sadly, "And some people are to sympathetic."

They were quiet for a while until Fanny said, "Numbuh 88 was really close too him. The way she talked about him. He was her hero...but she still did what she had to do for the KND because that's what was right. The decommissioning squad is too important to be filled with people who would do anything less than what is right for the KND."

Rachel smiled at her. "Then do what's right."

~Defection~

"You can't do this!" Numbuh 89 objected, panicked, as his ex-teammates strapped him in. "Katie, please!" he implored Numbuh 88, who shook her head at him. When that didn't work he looked around at the other faces in the room. Numbuh 274 stood near the door, flanked by the twin guards. The rest of the faces were mostly covered, prison gaurds who frowned and wore visor's over their eyes so that Fanny couldn't tell if they were frowning at her or the begging operative. "Numbuh 274," he pleaded, "you can't let her do this. I'm not thirteen yet."

"Numbuh 86 is my Head of Decommissining," Numbuh 274 replied coldly. "You betrayed her and my organization when you took the side of the defector Lucas Smith. She believes that makes yoou a threat and I agree. She is wise to eliminate the threat."

There were tears glistening on his face when Numbuhs 86 and 88 stood back from his chair. Strapped tight and helpless. Numbuh 86 might have felt bad, but he had taken his side. He had chosen someone else. Everyone always chose someone else and Fanny was so tired of it. Of being the bad guy or the disappointment. Of being disrespected and cast aside, ignored and used and bullied.

Rachel had been right, she had to do what was right. At the time she thought it would be hard, but now, standing there and feeling the adrenaline, the power that came with being able to decide what a person deserves for hating her for no good reason...it felt good. It felt like justice.

She pulled the lever.

~Defection~

Numbuhs 87 and 90 had been detained awaiting her judgement and when they were fetched and brought to the decommissioning chambers the panic in their eyes was almost as sweet as what she knew she was going to do to them. They had heard what she had done to Numbuh 89. They knew what was in store for them and they fought it fiercely, pulling at the prison guards and objecting in hysterical voices, but nothing could save them. They were brought right up to the end of the catwalk and placed to stand in front of the young Head of Decommissioning. She looked somehow more terrifying than before. She stood taller, more confidently, and her face was set with more angry lines. She had taken Numbuh 986's helmet, carved off his number plate and replaced it with her own, and now it sat firmly atop her head, covering the thick mess of red curls. Numbuh 88 stood a little further back, tall and proud, but solemn.

"You know why you're here I expect?" She spoke louder, sharper. It made the two boys wince. "You abandoned your teammates, left them stranded, and left your duty to capture and decommission a defector."

"He was-"

"Shut up!" She snapped sharply and both boys fell silent, eyes wide with surprise. "You're not going to speak. You lost your right to speak to me when you abandoned your duty." She took a deep breath, let it out. Numbuh 86 had a temper, both of the boys knew it. It was pretty terrifying when she lost control of it. Maybe if they had considered that when they'd decided to leave they wouldn't be standing here, facing her wrath. "However," she continued when she had regained her composure. "You did not directly assist him as Numbuh 89 did. Therefore, you will not be decommissioned."

The boys exchanged uncertain glances. Numbuh 90 swallowed hard and asked, "We're not."

"No," Numbuh 86 assured, but there was a dark look on her face and on the face of Numbuh 88. "But I will not have a team made up of operatives who don't respect me. Therefore the both of you are hereby removed from my decommissioning team. You will go to Numbuh 274 to learn your new assignments."

There was a great chaos of objections from the boys as well as the firm orders from the prison gaurds for their silence, as good as that order did them.

"You _can't_ kick us off the team!"

"You _need_ us!"

It always seemed to come back to that with the boys. The thought made the Head of Decmmissisoning even more angry. Like two girls couldn't possibly handle things on their own. They would always need the boys to protect them, to do things right. To be the knight in shining armor.

But Numbuh 86 was no fair maiden.

"No," she corrected sharply, forcing the boys to fall silent again. "I don't need traitors. Now get the both of them out of my sight." And so the boys were removed, protesting the whole way.

When the doors had finally closed behind them, Numbuh 88 asked, "So what now?"

"Now?" Numbuh 86 replied turning to look at her last remaining teammate. "Now we make a new team."


	4. New

~New~

Numbuh 86 had forgotten how much she hated the Arctic Base, but when she and her only remaining teammate stood on the balcony over-looking the sparring cadets, she remembered. Every time her breath fogged in front of her face and every time she had to wipe at her runny nose. She shuffled her feet constantly to try and keep feeling in her toes. Part of her envied the cadets, doing the hot work that was training. You're always the warmest when you're moving.

"I want a couple younger ones at least," she told Numbuh 968 who stood looking out over the training cadets with them. "Older operatives are okay, but they'll have too be replaced soon. My age and down is more ideal. The longer we can have the same team members together the better off the Decommissioning Team will be." She had spoken about that at length with both the Supreme Leader and Rachel. After what her older teammates had done to her, making another team of twelve to tens seemed foolish. Older operatives had loyalties. Younger ones she could make loyal to her.

"You'll need to choose more as well," the supreme leader had told her as they sat in his office. "I'm expanding your team to include an average of twenty-five to thirty members."

She had repeated the numbers, astonished, but when he had explained his decision it made since. The number of people defecting was growing more and more by the year and now that a well-respected Head of Decommissioning had done it the numbers would only grow. She was going to need more people to keep up with the mess, more resources. She had carefully searched for pilots, combat specialists, stealth specialists, trackers, medics. Most of the current operatives she wanted had already been selected and were waiting for approval from Numbuh 274. All that was left now was searching for talent among the cadets.

"What are you looking for specifically?" The Head Drill Sargent asked.

"Exceptional cadets," she replied, shrugging. "I'm not picky about specialties. The decommissioning team that Numbuh 274 and I are putting together needs pretty broad talent in order to be successful."

Numbuh 968 was quiet for a long time so Numbuh 86 watched the cadets in silence. There was a kid in the back that caught her attention. A little girl with a sandy braid that was standing between two operatives. As Fanny watched, one of the older boys lunged at her and the girl rolled under his arms and around his legs, sprang to her feet and leapt onto his back. The force added to his already downward momentum sent him sprawling to the floor and the cadet vaulted off his back, several feet in the air, flipped over the head of the second operative, grabbing his jacket as she went. He stumbled backwards, his body following her and the sudden misdirection forced him off his feet. Fanny smiled. "That one," she said, "In the back corner. What's her name?"

"Gretta," Numbuh 968 replied. "Her parents are acrobats or something…I don't know, but she's always doing crazy tricks like that. She's just a show off though. No technique."

"Sometimes willingness to take risks is more important than technique," Numbuh 86 replied, smiling as the girl turned and seemed to look right at her. "I want Gretta. And I want that kid on the fourth target over there," she continued gesturing to where the shooting range was set up right next to the hand-to-hand arena.

Numbuh 968 stared at her, surprised. "Garrett? He hasn't hit the target at all?"

Numbuh 86 laughed, as though he had said something very funny even though he had no idea what. "You should pay more attention to what your cadets are doing, Numbuh 968," she told him, and gestured towards the rows of targets. "He's not aiming the targets." And as though on cue, the boy pulled the trigger, and the beam flashed past the target and melted an icicle dangling from the ceiling. The Head Drill Sergeant's mouth fell open. Numbuh 86 said, "I want him."

Numbuh 968 didn't question her anymore after that. She selected six more: a boy she watched diagnose and repair a T.A.Z.E.R in a matter of seconds, a young medic who also specialized in ranged weapons and proved to be a pretty good sniper, and more like them, exceptional or diverse or both. When she had chosen who she liked, Numbuh 968 said goodbye and she and Numbuh 88 began the cold trek back to their ship.

"Are you sure having so many fresh operatives is a wise idea, Numbuh 86," Numbuh 88 asked her quietly as they walked. She knew better than to question the little Head of Decommissioning in front of other operatives, but in private, or at least the semi-private of walking alone together, she said what she liked.

"I'm confident that it is," Numbuh 86 replied, then shrugged, "but no move is a guarantee. Everything we do, especially the most successful things, comes with a little risk."

"Of course," Numbuh 88 concedes, "but theres so much other talent with a little bit more experience….Like him."

Numbuh 86 knew who she was talking about immediately. He was walking right towards them and when he saw Fanny a determined look crossed his face. The Head of Decommissioning tried to direct her teammate down a side hall to escape, but it was no use. He called, "Hey!" And raced down the hall in time to catch her shoulder and turn her to face him. "What's up? I haven't seen you in weeks?"

"Yeah, I've been busy with my new position and all," Numbuh 86 replied dismissively, trying to back away, but he had a hold on her arm. Not hard enough to hurt her, but firm enough that she couldn't escape him without causing a scene, which she didn't want.

A dark look crossed his face. "Well, maybe you wouldn't have as much work to do if you hadn't fired most of your team."

It wasn't the first time this argument had come up. She remembered the first time vividly, standing in that room in the spy unit. Standing in it she had remembered the train fort where Numbuh 88 and their ex-leader had spent their time. Where they had bonded and shared their secrets and their pain. The place where Numbuh 88 had betrayed him. She had never felt like this room was the same thing so much as the moment when Numbuh 60 had taken her ex-teammates sides.

"How can you defend them?" She had demanded, her voice doing the high-pitched, cracking thing it did when she got really angry. She hated when it did that. It made her sound girly and weak. "They betrayed me!"

Patton had shrugged his shoulder, hesitating, searching for the right words to explain his obscure opinion. "They were losing the leader they had been working with for years. Someone they respected, loved even. Of course they had doubts and instead of trying to understand why they did it you just decommissioned one and threw the other two out into the streets!"

"You think I was wrong to want to have a team that will stand behind the KND no matter what the circumstances are?" Fanny had accused coldly. "If I were a boy would you think I was wrong?"

"What?" The objection had come out as a squeak. "Of course not! You know I'm not one of those guys!"

"That's sure what it sounds like," she insisted, and her mind was made up then. That was his problem. That was everyone's problem. That was why the only person who stood with her was Numbuh 88, the only other girl on the team, despite how close she had been to her ex-leader.

She had nearly formed an entire team of girls because of that, but Rachel had rolled her eyes when she shared the thoughts. "You're overreacting. Patton's defending Lucas because he's an idiot not because they're both boys, and eliminating half of the KND population from your team because of some stupid prejudice just isn't the smart thing to do." So Numbuh 86 had chosen boys who had shown talent as surely as she had chosen girls, but she would keep a careful eye on the boys. And she was not going to just forgive Patton for what he had said.

She yanked her arm hard and it slipped from his grasp. he blinked, surprised by her anger and even more so when she spoke, her words vehement, "My team is my business, Numbuh 60, not yours. Now I suggest you get back to your duties before I inform your superior."

And she marched away without another word, her teammate following close behind. Numbuh 88 didn't say anything this time and they were silent until they loaded onto the ship, then, seated in her chair in the center of the vehicle, Fanny said, "He took Lucas's side. He would betray me in a heartbeat, just like the others. That's why I didn't take him on the team."

Numbuh 88 didn't respond. Fanny wondered if the older girl thought she was being paranoid. Rachel did. Maybe Fanny even did a little bit, somewhere in the back of her mind. But if Numbuh 88 did think that she didn't say so. She just started the engine and took the ship to the air.

~New~

The new operatives fell silent when Numbuh 86 entered. There were seventeen in total, which would become twenty-four when the six cadets she had chosen graduated and when one added Numbuh 88. Pilots, trackers, prison guards or moon base guards, a couple medics, she had spread her net far and when she looked out among the faces she felt more then ever that she had made the right decision in that. Lucas's team had been strictly battle-trained operatives and they had not been prepared for what would happen if battle went awry. But herrs would be.

It also felt very nice to no longer be the youngest person on the team. There were a few older, but more than half were her age or younger and all had heard what she had done to the last operatives who had betrayed her trust. No one would question her or contradict her. They would do what she said out of fear.

And maybe that was the best she was going to get. Fear wasn't a bad way to lead and the other effective ways wouldn't work for her. Her own mother didn't love her so how could she expect anyone else to? And respect? Her ex teammates had proven that wasn't an option for her.

But she could make people afraid of her, and she would. She would be the scariest operative in the KND. And she would get what she wanted that way.

"Welcome," she said, to the room full of other operatives. "To the Decommissioning team."


	5. Betrayal

_~Betrayal~_

Rachel knew from the moment she arrived that something had happened. There was a small crowd of operatives gathered together in the hangar, talking excitedly. She ignored them, but couldn't fight the suspicion that only grew more prominent as she walked through the hallways, passing operatives racing around frantically. The spy unit would be quiet at least. This was the hour between shifts, most of the operatives would either have not arrived or be doing things elsewhere in preparation for dismissal.

But she was wrong. The spy unit was as alive and buzzing as the rest of the base. That wasn't a good start to her day. She liked coming in early and just enjoying the peace of an empty common area. It was her happy time and kept her sane enough to go home and deal with Harvey, who followed her around talking constantly or burst into tears if he found a speck on the counter or her cat brushed against him.

Frustrated, she turned on her heel and headed back out into the wide hall of the Moon Base. She'd use the extra time to pick up some breakfast, she decided, shifting the bag that held her street clothes further up her shoulder. The hall was crowded as well. Operatives huddled in groups whispering excitedly and pointing out of the glass that made up one wall, looking out at the fiery ball of the sun. It wasn't nearly as yellow or pretty on the moon. It just looked like what it was, a giant ball of fiery death. Rachel shivered at the thought and wondered how it could possibly interest everyone so much. As she pushed through operatives standing around she tried to eavesdrop, but with all of the different conversations going at once she could not catch anything but several snatches of conversations and they all seemed too random to be connected. "Numbuh 276" "Decommissioning Team" "Sector V" "detached from the moon" "The sun".

The cafeteria was just as crowded as everywhere else. It was starting to irritate her. Honestly was the entire organization here today? She shouldered her way impatiently to the food counter, poured a bowl of cereal for herself and headed to find an empty booth, which didn't exist. She did find Fanny sitting alone in a corner booth, stabbing aggressively at her breakfast(or dinner since the operative had probably been on duty all night.) She had changed so much in the past year or so. Rachel hardly recognized her as the neighbor she had grown up with who liked stitching up hurt rainbow monkeys and always won at darts, but lost at chess. Now she was angry, and not the occasional, extreme anger that used to be. Now she was angry all of the time for no apparent reason. She made no effort to care for her hair anymore, so now it was just a mess of tangled curls that had begun to imitate the shape of her helmet and she had stopped medic work all-together. No more stitching up hurt dolls. She just yelled now. "Shouldn't you have been off duty hours ago?"

"What is it with that stupid Numbuh 1, always thinking he has to show up and save the day?" She stabbed at sausage which shook and rolled away. "Always making the rest of us look like idiots, parading around with his stupid hero plans and gettin' all the credit!"

Rachel sighed. "Right, forgot you were crazy. Sorry I asked." And with that she shoved a spoonful of Rainbow munchies in her mouth. Numbuh 86 continued as though she hadn't heard Rachel's jibe. She probably hadn't, her ears were so full of the sound of her own, very loud voice.

"And that stupid Numbuh 274! Sending me and my team on a wild goose chase while his teenage self sits right under my nose, making me look like the biggest joke of a Head of Decommissioning since Numbuh 868 was in charge!"

Rachel choked and coughed milk and bits of cereal across the table. Numbuh 86 leapt back, nearly crawling over the back of her booth, and shouted indignantly, "Hey! What's the matter with you!"

"What did you say about Chad?" Rachel demanded between coughs, wiping at the tears the choking had built up in her eyes.

Numbuh 86 scoffed. "Chad," she repeated irritably, like a curse instead of their supreme leader's name, "Forgot you were buddy-buddy with him." and she stopped a passing operative, a little boy in a lab coat, shouting, "Hey! You! Go get us some something to clean this up!" And when he didn't move immediately she added in a much louder voice that made him jump and scuttle away whimpering, "Now!" When he was gone she slumped back in her seat muttering about boys.

Rachel snapped her fingers at the girl. "Focus, Fanny. What about our Supreme Leader?"

"Oh yeah," the other girl shrugged, looking part angry and part embarrassed(which really only looked like even more angry for her), "Well, he's not Supreme Leader anymore. He's a traitor."

"A traitor?"

"And a teenager. He changed the ages of the recipients of his parents' birthday card invitations so my team would decommission Sector V before they could find out and tell anyone!"

Fanny seemed as though this fact offended her deeply, but it only confused Rachel. Furrowing her brow she asked, "You went after Sector V? You know they're nowhere near being thirteen. They're in our class."

Fanny turned a bright shade of red, matching the wild mane of curls underneath the strainer helmet she always wore with her code number emblazoned on the front. "The computer said they were to be decommissioned so I did my job!" She snapped.

Rachel held up her hands as a sign of surrender, even if she still couldn't see the logic. "So what did Numbuh 1 do that made him look like a hero?" She asked, as the lad coated by returned with a towel for which she thanked him and proceeded to clean her mess. Fanny replied:

"Stopped the Moon Base from flying into the sun."

Rachel knocked over the orange juice, spilling it into her lap. She stood quickly, squealing, and began patting at her soaked uniform. Fanny frowned at her. "You're making a lot of messes today."

"The Moon Base almost hit the sun?" Rachel demanded, trying to steer Fanny's focus to the important issues, because clearly she had no grasp on what they really were. "How?"

"That stupid boy set it on the course!" Numbuh 86 grumbled, slumping in her seat. "Right before he took off in the only escape pod." Then she began grumbling about how he had made her look like an idiot, but Rachel couldn't focus enough to catch it. She felt like her heart had dropped right out of her chest and landed splattered on the floor. Swallowing hard she interrupted Fanny's rant.

"Numbuh 274?"

Fanny paused and stared at her, dumbstruck. "What?

"You said 'he took off'. You meant Numbuh 274?" Fanny nodded mouth gaping open and staring as though she couldn't decide if Rachel were being stupid on purpose. "There has to be some mistake," Rachel decided, shaking her head and taking a step back as though distancing herself from Fanny would correct the bad news. The juice was beginning to soak through to her skin and chills spread out from the places it reached. "Numbuh 274 would never do that!"

"Haven't you been listening?" The other girl demanded, her face a bright shade of angry red. "He's a traitor! A stupid, teenaged traitor!"

But Rachel couldn't stop muttering about a mistake. Something had to be wrong. Numbuh 274 was her friend, her role model. He would never betray the Kids Next Door. He wasn't like that…

Later she didn't remember running from the cafeteria. The room she locked herself in, sinking to the floor and trying to catch her breath, was unfamiliar and she would not recognize it again until several years later and even then it was pointed out to her. The one thing she would remember about the room was the darkness and the safety she had thought that it provided her for only a few moments, before she realized she wasn't alone.

"Everything okay?" The voice drifted from a dark corner, making Rachel jump and grope for her staff, which condensed down to a small tube that she wore at her belt.

"Who's there?" She demanded, stumbling to her feet and extending the weapon. She couldn't make out much, but she thought she could see a humanoid outline in the direction from which voice had come.

The shape shifted and stepped into the small square of light from the window on the door, saying, "A friend."

Rachel sighed with relief. "Numbuh 1. You scared me." She returned her staff to its travel size and replaced it on her belt. "What are you doing in here all alone?"

"I suspect the same as you," he replied in that level tone that hadn't seemed to change since they were cadets together. Admittedly, Rachel had always been unnerved by him. He liked to speak cryptically and he always wore those stupid sunglasses. There was something unsettling about not being able to see a person's eyes; you can get so much from eyes. They can tell you how a person is feeling, if they're lying, if they're even listening to you. There was also the bald thing; no ten-year-old should be bald. Some operatives whispered that he was secretly an adult that just looked like a kid. Rachel had often found herself wondering on the same subject.

"And what is it you think I'm doing in here?"

He smiled. It wasn't a big smile, just one side of his mouth quirking a little as though he were trying to stop it. "Brooding over the betrayal of someone we thought a friend."

Rachel hesitated. "You knew Numbuh 274 well?"

"He's no operative anymore. We should call him Chad…." And there was a long moment that followed in which they simply stood there looking at each other. Or Rachel looked at him at least, and his face was turned towards her, but she couldn't see his eyes to know if he was truly looking at her. Then he broke the silent, "…looked up to him," the boy told her. "He was my hero, everything I wanted to be...and he was my friend."

Rachel stared into the darkness, afraid to look at her fellow operative and his stoic face. Chad had been all of those things for, but he had also been more. He was the only person in the world who had really seemed to care about her well-being. But more than that, there was something about their relationship that was deeper, that she couldn't explain. She had often wondered if it was what people thought was love. If it was, she could understand why people did such crazy things for it.

"...Of all the operatives I've ever met, he's the last I ever suspected might hack into the system and tamper with operatives ages."

Rachel started, suddenly pulled back to attention. "He did what?"

"Changed ages in the system. He pushed back his thirteenth birthday and bumped up the people that his parents had invited to his thirteenth birthday party." Rachel felt herself bump the wall and slide down slowly. "It was actually really clever. I probably wouldn't have ever thought of it myself...are you okay?"

Was she okay? No she wasn't even close. She had made that joke. Changing your age in the system...that had been her idea. This was all her fault. She swallowed hard. When she spoke her voice cracked from the sudden dryness. "I'm fine. Just shocked is all."

He was watching her. She could feel his eyes behind the glasses, she just had no idea what they were saying. "It'll be fine you know?" He told her. "Numbuh 86 is good at her job. Mean and tunnel-visioned, but good. She'll catch him."

That wasn't even close to what she was concerned about. "Thanks." Then something occurred to. "What will they do now that we don't have a supreme leader?"

Numbuh 1 shrugged. "Usually they select a new leader with a game of tag," Rachel knew that, she had been there for Numbuh 274's game, "but since our supreme leader isn't here to start one anymore...well I don't know that there's a protocol for this particular situation. I don't know that a supreme leader has ever betrayed us like this."

Rachel stared into his face for a long time. "Who makes the decision?"

"Anyone I suppose. There's not exactly a designated second in command for the entire organization."

"We should have one," she observed, picking at her pants leg. "We should have a backup policy and we should have a designated person to start a game of tag if things go wrong."

Numbuh 1 grinned, head tilted down so that she could just make out his eyes over the tops of the glasses. They were pretty. Blue. "Spoken like a true Supreme Leader." Rachel opened her mouth, closed it and just stared blankly at him. Her discomfort seemed to amuse him. "I'll see you around, Numbuh 362."

And with that he made his way to the door. She scrambled to her feet to let him by and tried to say, "Wait!" But only made incomprehensible noises. It wasn't until after the door had closed behind him that she managed to get out her objection. "I never told you my code name…?"

~Betrayal~

Rachel was sitting alone in Numbuh 274's office, staring. Someone had come in and cleaned out all of his belongings. His medals and trophies from the walls, his picture of his family, that stupid little bobble head that always sat at the corner of his desk. Tomorrow, after the game of tag, this would be someone else's office. They would decorate it their own way. Maybe they would get rid of that obnoxious squeaking desk chair. Maybe they would have a bobble head of their own. Either way, they would make this office their own and all traces of Numbuh 274's two and a half years here would be gone. The only thing left of him would be his last act. His betrayal.

Movement from the corner made her jump and she leapt to her feet, drawing her compressed staff. "Who's there?" She demanded.

When he stepped from the shadows it was like seeing a ghost. Her first instinct was to run to him and hug him, but another part of her stopped that notion. It remembered that this was wrong, he shouldn't be here. She should whack him over the head and call the Moon Base guards. He held up his hands. "Rach, it's me."

"Don't call me that," Rachel snapped, expanding the staff. The stop sign spun out as though enforcing her own thoughts. "You lost the right to call me that when you betrayed the KND. When you tried to send the moon base full of operatives into the sun...when you used my joke as a real tactic…" Somehow that was what hurt the most. The fact that she had inadvertently helped him. "I should call Numbuh 86 and have her take you right now."

"You're right," he agreed. "You should...but I hope you don't. I hope you hear me out, let me explain. I hope you know me well enough to trust that I didn't do this for any reason other than to help the KND."

"How does trying to send us barreling into the sun help us?" She snarled. She could feel tears threatening to come; pushing at her eyes just like the words pushed at her throat. The words she would never give him the satisfaction of saying: _I_ _trusted_ _you_!

"I knew Numbuh 1 would never let that happen," Numbuh 274 explained quickly. "He's a good operative, smart. I trusted he would succeed."

"You trusted him?" Numbuh 362 repeated venomously. "You risked hundreds of lives on your trust in one operative?"

"Sometimes we have to take risks for the good of everyone. I needed to get into the Teens to spy, but Cree only accepts ex-operatives if they do something big-"

"Why should I believe anything you're saying?" She interrupted loudly.

"You shouldn't," Numbuh 274 decided, at last seeing that he wouldn't be able to talk his way out of this one. "Let my actions speak for me. When they play tag to decide the new leader tomorrow, make sure you're tagged and then stay that way. Become the supreme leader and then I'll feed you information from the teens. I'll be an invaluable resource and I'll ask for no information in return. I just want to help the KND."

Rachel eyed him for a long moment, an internal battle waging in her head. One part of her knew she shouldn't trust him, but another part desperately wanted to. "What if I don't want to be supreme leader?" She asked at last.

At that he smiled that stupid, charming smile. "Of course you want to. You like being in charge and you're good at it, and now you have me-a direct link into the teens' movements. Why shouldn't you be supreme leader?"

Rachel considered that for a long time. She'd always wanted to be supreme leader...and he was right, she would be good at it. She just knew it. But still..this way. Being in league with a traitor. It seemed wrong somehow. Dirty. She stared hard at him for a long time. There had to be some plot here. Some double play. She took a deep breath. "What will happen tomorrow will happen. I'm not helping anything just because you told me to." Then she moved to leave, but hesitated and turned back to him. "I'm going to let you go this time, because you did so much for me, but next time I find you here, I'll call the guards."

He nodded and dissolved back into the shadows. Numbuh 362 turned back to the door and left without looking back.


End file.
